Wounded And Scarred
by saragillie
Summary: Booth is grazed by a bullet
1. Chapter 1

"Bones, get the cuffs out of my back right pocket, please," Booth ordered.

She gave him a funny look, but moved to do as he requested. Standing behind him, she bent over and reached into his pocket for them. Using his right knee, Booth was pinning down a suspect who had taken a shot at them. He held both the man's hands firmly in his own. She could see the suspect's handgun on the grass a few feet away.

'Putting your hand in someone else's pocket is oddly…intimate,' she thought, as she retrieved and handed the cuffs to him.

As Booth moved the suspect to his vehicle, Brennan noticed he was favoring his right side. 'He must have been grazed.'

At a stoplight on the ride to the Hoover Building to book the suspect, Brennan offered Booth some tissues to pad his wound with. He accepted it, leaned forward, slipped his left hand underneath his shirt and jacket, and positioned the tissue, wincing as he did. She debated suggesting that he get it looked at, but decided she shouldn't say anything until they'd dealt with their passenger.

After they booked the suspect for resisting arrest and assaulting a federal agent, Booth took Brennan back to the Jeffersonian. On the way there, she broached the subject of his injury.

"Booth, maybe we should take to you the hospital to get your graze looked at," she said.

"I've been shot enough times to know when it's serious or not," he replied.

"It's not a good idea to let something like that go. You need to have it properly cleaned and bandaged," she responded.

"And I don't like hospitals. I've spent too much time in them already. I don't want to go when I don't need to," he retorted.

She sighed. His tone of voice told her that she wouldn't be winning the argument.

"At least let me look at it then," she demanded.

He threw a smile her direction and said, "Aw, Bones. It's nice to know you care."

"Of course I care. Besides, I wouldn't want to have to break in a new agent," she said.

Booth trailed her through the Jeffersonian into her office. She retrieved a first aid kit from somewhere in the recesses of her desk and pulled out antibacterial ointment and bandages of various sizes.

As she walked toward him with the medical supplies, he shrugged out of his leather jacket.

When that wasn't followed by an immediate removal of his shirt, she said, "Take off your shirt, Booth."

He looked at her askance, and then joked, "If you wanted to see, all you had to do was ask, Bones." He winked at her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I can tell by the way you're moving that I won't be able to bandage it properly with the shirt on," she replied.

He winced as he pulled the black T-shirt over his head. He tossed it onto the couch and then looked at his partner.

Brennan couldn't take her eyes off of his chest. She had known he was well-muscled from their occasional hugs, but knowing it and seeing it were two different things. He obviously worked out. She had always thought he was an attractive man and her current view reinforced that opinion. Booth was amused by her appreciative stare.

A few seconds or minutes later, Brennan couldn't be quite sure which, something moving at the edge of her peripheral vision distracted her. She turned her head and noticed that a woman walking by her office had stopped and was starting at her partner. She stepped around him and closed the blinds.

"That woman was looking at you as if you were some kind of… object… to be possessed," Brennan fumed.

Booth, used to the attention his good looks attracted, replied, "And just what did you think Angela meant when she called me F-B-eye candy?"

"I don't know. It just sounded odd to me when she said it, but we were working and so I ignored it," she answered. "Wait? You overheard that?"

"I hear lots of things, Bones," he said with a sly smile, distracting her from the comment she had been planning to make about his ego.

Suddenly she became overwhelmingly aware that her partner was standing half-naked in her office and her mind returned to the reason for his state of partial undress.

Pointing to the couch, she ordered, "Sit."

He complied. She sat next to him and gently pushed his shoulder back so she could see the wound, a shallow angry red gash several inches long on his right side near rib number five. He was right; it was just a graze. She dabbed the antibacterial ointment into it.

"It's a good thing your arm wasn't at your side when he shot at you," she commented, reaching for her largest bandage.

"The fact that he's a terrible shot helped too," Booth replied wryly.

The bandage was the right length, but much too wide. She folded it in half, increasing the padding and then taped it to his side.

Every time her fingers gently touched his skin in the process of treating his wound, little sparks radiated from the point of contact down his nerves. A wave of desire flooded him. Bones was his partner, but she was also a beautiful woman. Although he touched her regularly for a variety of reasons, she didn't initiate contact all that often.

When she finished, she placed a hand on his shoulder and said softly, "Booth, I'm sorry this happened." She felt scar tissue underneath her fingers and shifted to get a better look at his back. She gasped at the network of thin, white, almost invisible scars covering most of it.

"Booth?" she asked.

"You didn't think my feet were the only part of me damaged during my time as a POW, did you?" he queried.

"I guess I never really thought about it. You clearly didn't want to talk about it," she answered. "I mean, I occasionally wonder what happened, but I never thought there might be more injuries."

"Well, one guy was more 'creative' than the rest. He thought that carving my back with a sharp blade was an excellent way to convince me to talk," Booth explained. "And you're right, I don't want to talk about it."

She traced one of the lines toward his lower back absently as she processed this revelation. A pleasant shiver shook his body in response and she jerked her hand away.

A long look passed between them, and just as he was wondering if she would hit him if he kissed her, her clinical mind took over and she returned to business.

"The bandage needs to be changed a couple of times a day. I bet it hurts," she said.

As though her words summoned it, the pain came rushing to the fore and he nodded in agreement. She got up and returned a moment later with two Advil and bottled water. He swallowed them with a gulp of water.

"Uh, Bones?" he began. "I don't think I'll be able to change the bandage myself."

She evaluated his statement and then took it at face value. "All you have to do is ask," she replied with a smile, offering him his T-shirt.

He pulled it on carefully. "Ready to work?" he asked, returning her smile.

**AN: I think this stands on it's own, but it also has potential. I'm not sure where to go with it, but it seems like it could be the beginning of a story or at least a two- or three- shot.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: And here's part 2. Thanks to everyone for the reviews and suggestions. I think the story needs a third part, but I'm not quite sure where the story goes yet. Let me know what you think. The idea for this chapter was inspired by a reviewer's suggestions.**

Booth and Brennan sat across from each other at the diner sharing a piece of pie.

"I can't believe we caught two cases in a row where the perps were willing to shoot," Booth commented. "At least nobody got hurt this time."

When she didn't immediately agree, he scrutinized her face.

"Bones?"

Her silence was answer enough.

"You should have said something," he said disapprovingly.

"No, it's not that," she objected hastily. "It's just that my back and neck have been bothering me a lot the past few days. I think I spent too much time bent over the exam table."

'That's not exactly a lie, is it?' she thought, suppressing a grimace at the pain radiating from her shoulder.

"Well, then, after you redo my bandage, I'll give you a massage," he said.

"I think I'll just take a nice long bath," she replied.

"A massage will be more effective," he pointed out, using his charm smile on her.

'I can't believe that still works on me! Why couldn't he just drop it? Once he knows for sure I got hit, he'll feel guilty and go all alpha male.'

When they arrived at her apartment, he headed to the kitchen asking, "You want something to drink, Bones?"

"Water, please," she answered, as she hung her coat on the rack.

While he poured her water and grabbed himself a beer from the refrigerator, she headed to the bathroom for bandages and hydrogen peroxide.

She returned to find him sitting on her couch with his feet up on her coffee table. 'He looks comfortable,' she thought with a smile.

She put the medical supplies down on the coffee table. She swallowed a couple of Aleve with some water and then motioned for him to sit up.

He was tired, her couch was comfortable, and he really didn't feel like sitting up, so he quirked an eyebrow at her and tossed her one of his charm smiles.

"Booth…" she said in a warning tone.

"Yes, Bones?" he replied, innocently, tilting the beer to his lips.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Come on, you know that I want."

He practically choked on his swig of beer.

"That's a pretty loaded statement, Bones," he replied with a wink.

"What?" she asked with a blank look, and then a second later as comprehension dawned, "Oh, but that's not… nevermind. Just sit up and take off your shirt."

"Since you asked so nicely," he said, but he didn't move right away.

"Look, it's been a long week, I've been in pain off and on yesterday and today, I didn't sleep well last night. Let's just get on with this," she snapped.

"Whoa, take a chill pill, Bones," he said, sitting up and unbuttoning his shirt. He eased it off his right arm and then pulled off his undershirt.

Like the first time she'd bandaged his wound and every time since, she was distracted by the hard, muscular planes of his chest. She'd thought he was attractive the first time they'd met, even though she couldn't stand him then. Since then, she'd become comfortable with him. Their relationship had changed from almost outright hostility to grudging respect to friendship, and when Brennan was honest with herself, maybe something more. But now wasn't the time to explore her feelings.

Forcing her attention back to the task at hand, she removed the bandage carefully and examined the graze.

"It's healing well," she said as she dabbed on some hydrogen peroxide. She folded a bandage, placed it carefully over the wound and taped it in place. As before, she slowly traced the fine lines of the scars on his back, but this time she used both hands and the trail of fire that followed her fingers was twice as strong. A shudder shook his frame as her delicate touch neared the waistband of his pants.

He loved her and he had wanted to be with her for so long. When she touched him like this – like a lover – restraint was hard to come by. But he wasn't sure of her, so he enjoyed the moment and hoped there would be more.

To his surprise, she didn't jerk her hands away. Her hands rested where they were and for a moment he thought she might slip them around his waist and hug him from behind.

In her tiredness, it took Brennan's brain a minute to catch up to her body. For a moment, she let herself enjoy the way he felt, then she slowly retracted her hands. She grabbed the used bandage off the coffee table and headed toward the kitchen trash.

Booth sat back to watch her graceful movements as he had done many times before. But a red stain on the back of her shirt caught his attention. 'She lied to me! She did get hit!' he thought, annoyed that she'd managed to convince him otherwise. He waited until she returned from the kitchen.

"Ready for your massage?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to object, but he shook his head at her.

"Did you really think you could hide that wound from me?" he asked.

She looked at him and shrugged.

"Turn around," he ordered gently.

She complied. He looked more closely at the stain. It was in the middle of her left shoulder blade. 'Scapula,' he mentally corrected himself. There was a two-inch tear in the back of her shirt and the skin underneath was an angry red.

"The shirt is ruined," he said. "I'm just going to tear it…"

"No," she objected, beginning to unbutton it. "This is my favorite shirt. Maybe the tailor can save it."

He was doubtful, but held his tongue. She winced as she took her blouse off, but his breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of her breast as it swelled into a royal blue lace bra. 'Down boy,' he told himself firmly.

"Lie down," he said. "I'll bandage the graze and then try to work the kinks out of your neck and back."

She positioned herself on the couch, and he sat next to her. He gently dabbed hydrogen peroxide onto the shallow gash.

"How did you think you were going to treat this yourself?" he asked.

"Using a mirror," she replied.

He taped the gauze bandage into place.

"You got a pen, Bones?" he queried.

"There's several on my desk," she answered.

He stood up, went to the desk, found a pen, and returned to sit beside her. A moment later she felt the pen moving gently against her back.

"Booth, what are you doing?" she inquired.

"Your band-aid needed a smiley face," he replied.

There were so many things wrong with that statement her tired brain didn't even know where to begin. By the time she'd settled on one, his hands started gently massaging her shoulders. He quickly found the knots and one by one began working on them, working around the elastic of her bra. His hands moved slowly up her neck her hairline and the base of her occipital bone. Her muscles relaxed slowly, but her nerves were humming from his touch. Her eyes fluttered closed and she gave herself over to the sensations he was creating in her body.

For his part, Booth couldn't believe she hadn't laid him flat on his back when he'd suggested the massage or when he'd started touching her. 'She must really have been in pain,' he thought. He began to work his way down her back, fingers probing gently for the knots.

A small round scar about an inch above the bandage broke the soft smoothness of her skin.

He ran his fingers over the spot.

"Where'd you get this scar, Bones?" he asked softly.

He could feel her sigh underneath his hands.

"One of my foster fathers was having a bad day and he hit me with a board. Unfortunately there was a nail in it," she answered matter-of-factly.

He waited a moment to see if she would continue. When she didn't, he said, "Things like that should never happen to children."

"After me, they never had foster kids again," she said. "Other kids complained, but I was the proof."

He continued his massage, moving extra carefully around the bandage. Near the base of her rib cage on the right, he came across another scar.

This time she answered without him having to ask. "El Salvador."

When he reached her pants, he stopped his massage.

"Don't stop. I still feel tight in my lower back," she said.

He tried to continue, but the wide waistband of her pants made it difficult.

"Just a sec," she said, undoing the button and unzipping the zipper part way. She winced as she reached back to fold the top of her pants down.

"Okay," she said, indicating he should continue. However, watching her undress just that little bit more sent his pulse racing and he had to fight hard to keep from saying or doing something he'd regret.

When he didn't resume, she pushed herself up on one elbow and twisted slightly to look at him.

"Booth?" she asked.

Her new position exposed some of her cleavage and his throat went dry. He forced his eyes away from her breasts to her eyes. They were shining beneath her long eyelashes. Their gaze held and he felt exposed, as though she could see everything about him.

"Is something wrong?" she asked curiously, breaking the spell.

"Um… no," he replied, amazed that his vocal chords worked.

"Good," she responded, flattening herself against the couch.

He continued his massage of her lower back. She was right, there was a particularly large knot at the bottom of the small of her back. Usually she was so prickly about being touched and was quick to threaten anyone who did. It had taken a while, but she was finally comfortable with the small touches he gave her – a tap on the shoulder, his hand on the small of her back, the occasional hug. At the moment she was accepting, and maybe even welcoming, his touch.

He decided to take a risk. He kneaded from the bottom of the small of her back down to the upper part of her buttocks, stopping at the lace of her panties. He edged his hands out and began slowly massaging up her sides. When his hand brushed the side of her breast, she moved and he pulled his hands away quickly.

She turned until she was lying on her back and he could see her bare stomach, lace-covered breasts, and the tops of the matching panties. He'd always thought she was a beautiful woman, but this… seeing the reality of it, took his breath away.

She saw the look on his face and laughed. "You like what you see?" she teased. Secretly, she was elated. 'Maybe something more between us could work,' she thought.

"A little too much," he admitted, tossing his dress shirt at her. "If you don't want me to turn into that alpha male you always accuse me of being, you'd better cover up."

She saw the intensity in his eyes and suddenly felt unable to deal with what she read there. She pulled the shirt on and folded it closed over her. She rezipped her pants and stood.

"I'll just get a shirt," she started.

"Never mind," he said, pulling on his undershirt and reaching for his jacket. "I'll be here in the morning for you to change my bandage. I can get it then."

As he headed for the door, she said, "Um… Booth, tomorrow morning, would you mind…?"

He turned back with a smile, "Sure, Temperance. I won't even make you ask." Then he closed the door quietly behind him. He wondered how in the world he was going to sleep after that. And he'd be coming back the next morning for more of the most pleasant torture he could imagine.

Brennan headed for bed, but she was unwilling to take off his shirt. She might not be ready to deal with his feelings, but she couldn't deny hers any longer. She expected to have a hard time sleeping, but his scent surrounded her and she slept deeply, feeling safe as though he held her in his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I struggled with one part and ended up rewriting three times before it was right. I hope it was worth the wait.**

Brennan stood in the bathroom, looking at herself in the full length mirror.

'This is what I get for shopping with my best friend and letting her pick most of my clothes,' she thought with a sigh, removing the one piece suit and pulling on the bikini.

Hodgins had invited the team to his house for an end-of-summer pool party and barbeque, probably at Angela's urging. Cam had a friend from out of state visiting and wasn't coming, but the rest of the team would be there.

She looked at herself again. She had brought a perfectly good bathing suit with her, one that had traveled the world with her. But Angela had taken one look at it, and thrust a bikini, sarong, and high heels into her hands and shooed her into the bathroom to change.

When she objected, Angela surprised her by saying, "Just try on the one I bought. You don't have to wear it if you don't want to, but there's something about knowing you look good that makes you feel stronger and more in control. Besides, it will catch the eye of a certain FBI agent we all know and love."

Then the artist had skipped out of the room before Brennan could reply. She would never admit it to Angela, but over the past few weeks catching Booth's eye had gone from a thought she'd never had to one she'd pushed out of her mind to something she thought she might want to do.

The suit did look good on her. It was much more revealing than what she would normally choose to wear, but it wasn't like she was wearing it in public. Really, the only problem was that it showed the scar from where she'd been grazed, but both suits had that problem. The wound had healed, but the redness of scar had yet to fade.

She looked at herself again, turning this way and that. Angela was right. Knowing that she looked good made her feel more confident. She wrapped the matching sarong around herself, stepped into the shoes, and walked out the door.

Angela was waiting outside. Her eyes lit up when she saw what her best friend was wearing.

"Come on sweetie, the boys are waiting for us at the pool. I'm so glad you chose the bikini. Booth's eyes are going to pop out of his head," the artist chattered.

"That's not anatomically possible," Brennan objected.

"It's an expression," she said, dragging the anthropologist through some glass doors onto the deck at the back of Hodgins' mansion.

The guys were standing in the shallow end of the large pool tossing a ball back and forth.It took a minute for them to notice the ladies' arrival.

When they did, Angela asked Brennan, "Tanning lotion or sun block?"

"Sun block," she replied.

The artist passed her a bottle and turned to look at the guys, who had stopped tossing the ball about and were now looking at the women. She was particularly interested in Booth's reaction to Brennan's attire.

The anthropologist removed her sarong, spread it out on a nearby chaise, and sat down to put on the sun block.

Booth had been mentally preparing himself for her appearance, and to Angela's disappointment, he simply greeted the two of them and then dunked Zach. Booth watched his partner out of the corner of his eye.

Jack got out of the pool and started walking towards his fiancée. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her passionately. He whispered something in her ear and she giggled and kissed him back.

With Angela distracted, Booth gave up his pretense and started watching Brennan in earnest. Although he knew she wasn't trying to be alluring, the way she applied sunscreen to her legs showed more than a little cleavage and drew attention to her long legs.

Brennan felt his eyes on her. She wondered how it was possible to "feel" someone's eyes. The expression contained a categorical fallacy – seeing and feeling were two different senses – yet somehow the phrase perfectly described the moment.

Zach knew he ought to take the opportunity to observe different aspects of romantic relationships, but somehow he couldn't find the anthropological detachment to view his friends as subjects. After a few uncomfortable moments, he muttered, "I think I'll get a noodle from the pool house," and retreated toward the small structure.

Brennan looked up at her partner and was again struck by how well-structured he was. As she watched, he deliberately scanned her from head to toe and back again. When their eyes met, he quirked an eyebrow and nodded appreciatively. At that moment, a loud laugh from Jack and Angela drew their attention and they watched as the two disappeared around the side of the house.

Hoisting himself out of the pool, Booth said, "Hey Bones, need help getting your back?"

She nodded, handed him the bottle, gathered her hair in one hand and pulled it over her shoulder. He squeezed some lotion into his hand and began to rub it on her back. Immediately, her memory flew to the massage he'd given her. Now as then, his touch was both relaxing and exciting, a combination she'd thought impossible. She turned her head toward him and found his face barely an inch from hers. Her eyes widened when his dropped to her lips.

For a moment, she thought he might kiss her. Instead, he snapped the bottle closed, dropped it onto the chaise and stood. Brennan barely had time to register that his waist was at about her eye level before he swept her into his arms. He took a few steps toward the pool, tossed her in, and jumped in after her.

As if the water had drowned it, the tension between them melted away and suddenly they were the comfortable friends they'd always been. Brennan came up spluttering and lit into him.

"You're such an alpha male. I can't believe you did that. Just because you're bigger than I am doesn't mean you have the right to manhandle me," she said, frustrated.

Booth protested, "I would never manhandle a lady, Bones."

"Oh, so I'm not a lady?" she said hotly.

"What?!? I didn't say that," he objected.

"Well you implied it!" she replied. "You might never manhandle a lady, but you manhandled me, therefore I must not be a lady."

"That's not what I meant. I meant that I wasn't manhandling you!" he shot back.

"I just tossed you in gently," he finished with a smile.

Zach, noting that things had reverted to normal, emerged from the pool house with a noodle and a variety of other water toys. The special agent challenging him to a contest to see who could hold their breath the longest began the afternoon's water fun. After a while, Angela and Jack returned and the games got a bit wilder.

When Jack suggested they play Marco Polo, Brennan paled and announced that she was ready to collapse into a chaise, which is exactly what she did. Angela suggested a different activity and then announced that she too was ready to catch some rays. Soon everyone was relaxing, lulled by the warmth of the afternoon sun.

A pleasant feeling of lassitude stole over Brennan. Just as she was about to fall asleep, a hand tapped her shoulder. She slowly opened her eyes to see Booth smiling at her, a finger in front of his lips in a shushing motion. With a flourish and a small bow, he offered her his hand. She looked at him quizzically and he gestured toward the front of the house and mouthed, "A walk?"

She stood, tied the sarong around her waist like a skirt, and slipped on her shoes. When she was finished, he reached for her hand and led her silently away from the others. They slipped around the corner of the house and meandered hand in hand. He savored the feel of her smaller hand in his, expecting her to pull away any moment.

Eventually, Brennan stopped on a small rise and dropped his hand. She slowly turned in a circle, taking in the view. They stood on a low hill with the pond below them. On the far side a garden stood between the pond and the stone façade of the mansion.

"This reminds me of a scene from Pride and Prejudice. A large house with a garden and a reflecting pond," she mused.

Booth grinned and said, "I suppose I could swim the pond, if you like."

At Brennan's confused look, he responded, "Never mind. I should have known you'd read the book but hadn't seen the movie."

Ignoring Booth, she continued to admire the view and quoted the first line of the book softly. "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."

"Thinking of Angela and Hodgins?" he asked.

"Not exactly," she answered.

A humorous thought struck Booth and he verbalized it. "A single anthropologist in possession of ample book royalties must be in want of…" Booth paused a moment, trying to figure out how to end it, and then finished lamely, "well… something."

She gave him a look that indicated she thought his mangled quote was odd and tossed out, "A single FBI agent in possession of a gun must be in want of a date?"

"Funny, Bones. I don't need any help getting dates," he responded.

"Neither did Darcy," Brennan replied, "but he didn't seem to want most of them, only the woman who wouldn't give him the time of day."

"Yet the pair ended up together," he reminded her. "I didn't know you liked Jane Austen."

"You don't know everything about me, Booth," she said. "Jane Austen observed her society, not unlike an anthropologist, and then she wrote about it, although her work was fiction and somewhat satirical. I've always liked Pride and Prejudice because Elizabeth Bennett is a strong, intelligent woman who successfully navigated the pitfalls of her social class."

Booth thought that there were a number of similarities between the book's protagonist and his partner, but he wasn't sure she'd appreciate the comparison, so he kept his mouth closed. He reached for her hand and tugged her gently down the hill away from the house. When they came to a path, they followed it for a ways.

Brennan walked silently, savoring the quiet beauty of the trees around her. Booth, meanwhile, focused on the woman walking next to him. Seeing his partner's enjoyment of nature, he stayed quiet. She was by far the most beautiful and intelligent woman he'd ever known. He couldn't think of a single thing about her that he didn't love. He had been waiting patiently, slowly breaking down her walls and building a friendship in their place. His heart swelled with hope for the relationship burgeoning between them.

Finally, desire overtook restraint. He backed her up against a tree and invaded her personal space, intending to kiss her. She stared at him in surprise for a moment and then she became lost in his eyes. Slowly his gaze grew more intimate and intense. Her pulse raced. When she could handle it no longer, her eyes skittered to his mouth. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him and then quickly brushed the thought aside. 'He's my partner,' she thought, lowering her eyes. His unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt exposed a fair amount of his chest and stomach.

Booth watched as her eyes stopped on his lips momentarily and then dropped to his chest. He couldn't quite figure out exactly why it fascinated her so much, but he was okay with that. She couldn't seem to resist touching him when she saw it. As if on cue, he felt her hand softly stroke his stomach. He suppressed an urge to reciprocate the gesture. His eyes slid shut. The feelings she evoked in his body were like nothing he'd ever felt. No woman he'd ever been with affected him this strongly and they'd barely touched one another.

Suddenly realizing what she was doing, Brennan jerked her hand back. Booth's eyes flew open and took in her startled expression. Not wanting her to either think too much or to bolt, he leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead. As he pulled back his hand brushed the knot of her sarong.

She stilled when she felt his lips on her forehead. 'What is it about this man that short-circuits my brain?' she wondered idly. When he pulled back, the spot where his lips had been burned scintillatingly.

He stepped back, pleased to see her dazed expression. It was good to know he had the same effect on her that she did on him. Taking advantage of the moment, he undid the knot of the sarong and pulled it away from her body.

"Hey!" she called after him, as he walked around the tree and into the center of a copse of trees. By the time she followed him he was spreading the fabric out like a picnic blanket. He plopped down on it.

"There's a place reserved here just for you," he said in his deep voice, patting the ground next to him.

He drank in her appearance and her graceful movements as she moved toward him slowly and then sat down next to him. When he lay back, she followed suit.

"When you were a kid, did you ever see shapes in the clouds, Bones?" he asked.

She looked at him and then up at the sky. The trees limited her field of vision, but there was one cloud directly overhead.

"That one looks like a bent femur," she said, pointing.

Booth looked at it, turned his head sideways and said, "If you look at it like this, it looks more like a camel."

She pushed herself up on one elbow to see how he'd moved his head and then tilted her head the same direction.

"No, it doesn't," she disagreed in a half-hearted tone before flattening herself back to the ground.

They lay in silence for a few minutes. He turned on his side to watch her. He had never seen so much of her skin. It was smooth and looked soft. His hand automatically moved to find out, but he caught himself. A cool breeze blew through their glade, causing her to shiver.

"Feeling a little chilly?" he asked, intending to offer her his shirt.

When she nodded, he changed his mind and moved closer to her instead. Taking a risk, he placed his hand on her flat stomach. He heard her suck in a small breath at his touch. Her skin was as soft as it looked.

Booth's proximity and the hand on her stomach chased away the slight chill of the late afternoon. Wave after wave of sensation danced along her nerves. She knew he was crossing the line from professional to personal, but they'd been doing that slowly for months and she just couldn't bring herself to move.

He began to softly explore her stomach with his fingers, playing her nerves like a classical guitarist. She moaned quietly at the desire he evoked in her body. He leaned over and placed a single delicate kiss above her belly button and drove all thought from her head. He shifted until his head was above hers. Her lips parted slightly in anticipation of his kiss.

"Bren, Booth? Where are you?" Angela's voice came floating to them. "Jack's got the grill fired up."

Immediately they jumped apart like guilty school children. They stood and Brennan grabbed the sarong and rapidly tied it around her waist. A look of disappointment passed between them. Each scrambled to return to normalcy before Angela found them, and Brennan focused on slowing her breathing.

A moment later, the artist found them.

"Oh there you are! You wandered kind of far," she said.

"We were talking about Jane Austen and cloud shapes," Brennan replied, attempting to sound causal. However, her words came out a bit more quickly than normal.

Angela looked at the pair carefully. 'Something happened. I'll have to drag it out of Brennan tomorrow,' she thought.

"It's almost time for dinner. I hope you're hungry," Angela said. "Jack's got steak and chicken on the grill, and his cook makes this cake that's to-die-for."

The partners followed Angela obediently toward the house, relieved that she didn't seem to have noticed anything.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I'm sorry that it took me so long to get this to you. It's what happens when I write as I go instead of finishing the story before I start posting. I tried to make the story worth the wait -- this is a long chapter. redrider6612 did an especially excellent job editing this chapter for me. Thanks to everyone who reviewed.**

Booth and Brennan walked towards their cars, turning back to wave at Angela and Hodgins standing in the door. Ever the gentleman, he escorted her to her car, trying to forget just how good she looked earlier in her swimwear. She unlocked the door and turned to find him standing very close. Surprised, she looked up and saw the desire burning in his eyes.

"Booth, we have an audience," she hissed quietly. Then more loudly, "See you next week, Booth."

Trying to cover his distraction, he nudged her to the right and reached for the handle of her car door. As she slipped into the driver's seat, he said in a low voice full of promise, "I'll see you before then, Temperance."

Then he stepped back and carefully closed the door, regretting that he couldn't just follow her into it. As he moved toward his vehicle, he waved one last time at Jack and Angela, but thoughts of his partner occupied his mind.

Brennan woke early the next morning, and like every Sunday, she enjoyed the luxury of taking the morning slow before heading into the office. Coffee and light breakfast followed a long shower, but it wasn't long before she was immersed in completing paperwork and identifying a body from limbo.

A little after noon, Booth walked into her office.

"Hey, Bones. Told you you wouldn't have to wait 'til next week to see me!" he said with a wide grin.

She looked up at him and couldn't help but smile in return.

"Technically, Sunday is the beginning of the week, so you are seeing me next week," she replied dryly, smirking at him.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Let's grab some lunch," he said. When she opened her mouth to object, he continued, "Yes, I know you're perfectly capable of feeding yourself. I also know that you haven't done it yet."

She hated it when he seemed to know what she was going to say and was usually right. "I'm not hungry yet," she said, "and I'm in the middle of finishing this report."

"The report can wait until tomorrow," he replied.

She glared at him.

He moved to stand right behind her. He leaned over and spoke into her ear. "C'mon Bones," he wheedled, "you know you want to have lunch with your favorite FBI agent."

The feeling of his breath on her neck completely distracted her from her work. She turned her head to find his face inches away. His charm smile was at full wattage and she involuntarily sucked in a breath as her pulse increased.

"Fine," she said, saving and closing her document.

When they arrived at the restaurant and were seated, Booth surprised her by sliding into the seat next to her instead of the one across from her. She was a little uncomfortable at first, but he acted like it was completely normal and soon conversation flowed smoothly between the partners.

Near the end of lunch, Brennan eyed the last few fries on his plate. His fries always tasted better than hers. When she scooted close to him to grab a fry off of his plate, he casually draped his arm over her shoulder. Immediately she started and then turned her head to look at him with wide blue eyes. His eyes held a warm expression that made her heart pound. Suddenly uncomfortable again, she slowly slid away from him and he let her go, resting his arm on the seat of the booth.

After a short argument about who would pay for lunch, the two climbed into his SUV and he pulled out of the parking lot. Thoughts of Booth's behavior over the past few days occupied Brennan and she stared out the window without really seeing where they were going. Things had been different between them lately and she felt the need to understand what had changed.

As he pulled the vehicle into an empty parking spot, Brennan shook off her distraction and looked around.

"Booth, where are we?" she asked.

"Rock Creek Regional Park," he answered.

"But I have more work to do," she objected.

"Bones," he pleaded, "it's a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Please stop thinking about work for the afternoon and just enjoy the day."

She glanced at him for only a moment, but suddenly hanging out with him seemed more important than work. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she climbed out and waited while he grabbed a large backpack from the back seat.

"Let me know if you want me to take a turn carrying the backpack," she offered. "It looks heavy."

He let out an amused chuckle. "Bones, in the army we used to carry an eighty pound pack on all day marches. I think I can handle this one for a few hours," he replied.

She muttered a sentence that contained the words "alpha male tendencies," but since he couldn't hear the rest, he decided that he didn't need to answer.

For a while they meandered along one of the trails. Occasionally, she would see a flower she recognized and go into squint mode, practically giving a lecture about the particular species of flora.

After the first two, he asked, "Bones, can you just tell me names? I won't remember more than that anyway."

To his surprise, she didn't lecture him about losing a prime learning opportunity, instead she smiled and nodded. They continued to wander, eventually leaving the marked trail. About the time she realized that he was leading her in a particular direction instead of ambling aimlessly, he stepped over a large log.

Brennan eyed the log doubtfully. 'I'm not really wearing the right kind of shoes for this,' she thought, looking down at her feet. 'Too bad I'm not a few inches taller. If I was I could just step over it like Booth did.' Then Booth offered her a hand, and she stepped onto the log, holding his hand to keep her balance. Once she was safely on the other side, Booth picked up the pace a bit.

About twenty minutes later, he led her into a semi-circular clearing near a creek. Near the trees the sun created a dappled shadow, but most of the clearing was bathed in sunlight. He let go of her hand and dropped the backpack to the ground.

While Booth pulled a blanket out of the bag and spread it out in the shade, Brennan suddenly realized they had been holding hands ever since the log. 'And I didn't even notice. When did I become so comfortable with him that holding hands became second nature?'

Booth's voice distracted her from her musing.

"Hey Bones, you want some water?" he said, offering her an open bottle of water.

"Thanks," she said, grabbing it from his hand and taking a swig.

"It's warm out today, isn't it?" he observed, wiping his forehead with the back of one hand.

"A little, but not that much," she replied.

"Well, I'm really hot," he said.

She noticed his face was flushed and the back of his shirt was damp where the backpack had rested, telltale signs that he was hot.

"Why don't you have some more water to help you cool off?" she suggested.

He looked at her for a moment and was about to take her suggestion when he got a better idea. It would help him cool off and maybe she'd… He stopped thinking about it and just pulled his shirt off.

At first Brennan was surprised by his action, but as before, she was drawn almost inexorably to touch his bare chest. Mesmerized, she took a step toward him, her fingers dancing lightly on his skin. She silently named the muscles as her hand slid slowly down his chest toward his waist. His breathing hitched and his pulse raced. He loved how his nerves thrummed when she touched him.

Fascinated, he watched as her hand settled for a moment on the center of his chest and then slid down toward the bottom of his rib cage. Her mouth was moving, but no sound emerged. Her hand came to rest on his hip at the waistband of his pants, and he suppressed a moan of desire. He wanted her to keep exploring his body with her talented fingers, but she jerked away, suddenly aware of her actions and acutely embarrassed.

"I… I'm sorry, Booth," she stammered.

"Don't be. I was enjoying it," he replied with a cocky smile. Her gaze flew to his eyes and for a moment the world disappeared. Then a nearby bird chirped loudly, and the spell was broken.

Booth sat down on the blanket and then settled back into reclining position, one arm propping up his head. After a moment she sat down next to him.

Not wanting to use the phrase "touching me" for fear of scaring her off, Booth queried,

"When you were… you know… what were you mouthing?"

She looked puzzled for a moment, and then her expression cleared when she realized what he was asking. "I was naming the muscles and the bones," she replied softly, turning her head away with embarrassment. 'There's something about him that's just… what? Appealing? Irresistible? No those aren't exactly right.' She couldn't think of a good way to describe it.

"Teach me?" he asked just as softly.

Her eyes flew to his. When she saw that his request was sincere, she scooted closer and reached out to touch his shoulder.

"Deltiod," she began. Her hand slid down a bit. "These are the pectorals, but I'm sure you knew that." She continued to move, naming the muscles as she went. "Rectus abdominus, tranversus abdominus, external oblique…"

When she was finished, he tried to repeat the list back to her but he got stuck in the middle. Patiently, she went over it with him again. When he had the list down, she stretched out beside him, one hip on the ground and a hand supporting her head.

She started to speak, but his gaze ensnared her and its warmth blew the thought out of her mind. For a time, the sound of the rustling trees faded and they were the only two people on earth.

Booth smiled at her and said, "This is my favorite thinking place. I've never seen anybody here and if you walk a few feet that way along the creek there's a great rock to sit on. Listen!"

Her attention tuned to her sense of hearing, Brennan heard the sound of the creek burbling, the wind sighing softly through the trees, the chirping of birds, and the scuttling of small animals along the ground.

She turned a question gaze to him, and he said, "We're only a few miles from the road, but here it's almost like civilization doesn't exist."

He closed his eyes, appreciating the silence, the feel, and the smell of the glade. It wasn't long before Brennan became restless.

"I didn't bring anything to do, Booth," she said.

He opened a lazy eye and looked at her. "Today isn't about doing something, Temperance; it's about being. Relax. Enjoy the moment. Stop and smell the roses."

After a quick glance around her, she protested, "There are no roses here, Booth."

He sighed, "It's just an expression."

Brennan fidgeted, unsure of just how to do what he asked. She looked around again, slower this time, and noticed a few small flowers wilting under the sun beating down in the middle of the glade. Then Booth moved his right arm from behind his head and traded it for his left. She began to admire his solid frame. He had broad shoulders and narrow hips. His muscles were well-defined and looked pretty symmetrical. His face was almost in profile to her… straight nose, kissable lips…. 'Where did that thought come from?' Brennan panicked mentally.

"Booth, I…" she began, and then stopped unsure of how to continue.

He opened his eyes and turned his head in her direction. "Bones?"

She waved a hand between their bodies. "What is this?" she asked, wanting to understand how things were changing between the two of them, but not sure what words to use to describe it.

A soft smile played over his features. "This is two people falling in love," he answered simply.

"I…" Brennan started to speak.

He reached out a finger and pressed it to her lips. "Sshhh. Don't think about it yet. We'll talk about it tonight at dinner. For now, just enjoy where we are."

"But Booth," she began to object.

He gazed at her tenderly. "We will never have another moment exactly like this one. Just experience it, Temperance."

Then he shifted his head and closed his eyes again. He knew she needed time to think, but he hoped she would take his advice. He didn't want to give her too long to think, so after about half an hour, he stood up and pulled a small bag out of the backpack and tossed it to her.

"Ever been rock walking, Bones?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she replied.

"Well, go put those on and I'll show you how it's done," he said.

Brennan opened the drawstring of the bag and saw her bikini and flip-flops. She glanced up at him.

"Booth, where did you get these?" she demanded.

"I used the spare key you gave me in case of emergencies," he answered with a small shrug.

She frantically tried to remember where she had left her suit yesterday. Giving up, she stepped behind a large tree. Without a mirror it was hard to tell if she'd gotten everything tied right, but it would do. She folded her clothes into a neat stack, placing her underwear between her pants and shirt. When she walked back into the clearing, Booth was in swimming trunks.

Booth looked up and then gestured her to stand on the blanket. She carefully set her clothes down on the edge and then stepped out of her sandals onto the blanket. Slowly he drank in her appearance, savoring the details he hadn't been able to appreciate the day before. He moved his index finger in a circle and she turned as he requested.

When she was facing him again, he said, "Wow! Your body is just as amazing as your brain. I wanted to do that yesterday, but…"

"Turn again, please," he practically begged her.

In the normal course of things, Brennan probably would have begun a lecture involving the words anthropology and biological imperatives, but something in his voice urged her to comply without protest. Other men had appreciated her looks, but there was something about his open admiration that made her stomach flutter.

Then he said, "Okay, step back into those flip-flops and let's go."

He reached for her hand and led her toward the creek. Gravel covered the bottom, but there were a number of large stones. Booth stepped gently on the nearest one, testing to see if it was sturdy. Standing on it, he looked for the next rock, tested it and then moved. She followed after him. Some of the rocks were wet and others had moss growing on them.

After a few rocks, he said, "See? Rock walking! If we go a few minutes up stream there's a nice pool."

When they reached a wide pool, Booth let go of her hand and floated on the water. As she stood on the last rock trying to make up her mind about getting in the water, he admired the way the sunlight set off her curves.

Brennan dipped a foot in the water. It was a bit cold, but not too bad. She stepped in and the water came to about her waist. She had just decided that she didn't want to get her hair wet, when a large splash drenched her.

"Booth! That was unnecessary," she scolded with a shiver.

"But you look so good wet," he replied with a huge grin.

'He's impossible when he's like this,' she thought, before splashing him back.

After their splashing war, he put his arms around her to dunk her, but electricity jolted through him when he touched her. Suddenly, all he could think about was kissing her. She seemed to melt into his arms. Dark brown eyes met blue ones in an intense gaze and then he slowly lowered his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

The kiss didn't last more than a few seconds, but Brennan felt as though an accident had happened in a fireworks factory. One sensation after another exploded through her body. When he pulled away, her eyes fluttered open and she found herself mesmerized by the love and desire she read in his eyes.

She moved out of his embrace. "Booth…" she began, her brain desperately attempting to unscramble her thoughts.

"Don't think, Temperance, just feel. Be in the moment. We will never have another first kiss," he said softly.

When she started to speak again, he pulled her into a tight hug and stroked her hair. A moment later, she relaxed in his arms. They stood for a long while, bodies pressed together. It was impossible for him to hide his physical desire for her and after a moment, he decided he didn't care. He had hidden from her long enough.

When she began to shiver, he led her back down the creek to their clearing. He extracted beach towels from the backpack and tossed one to her. Immediately she began dry off. He couldn't help but watch her as she moved.

"Booth, you're staring," she observed.

"I'm sorry. I just can't help it. You're so incredibly smart and amazingly beautiful, I just…" he trailed off, uncertain how to express what he was feeling.

His compliment warmed her heart. A smile stole over her face and he felt as though the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He took a deep breath and restrained himself from kissing her again. He needed to give her time to sort things out in her mind.

He flopped onto the blanket and stretched out. A moment later she followed his example and they were both lying on their backs side-by-side. He grinned lazily at her and she smiled back at him. He delicately reached out and touched her stomach, naming the muscles as she had taught him earlier.

Brennan couldn't suppress the pleasant shiver that shook her body in response to his touch. When he finished naming the muscles, he began to caress her stomach with smooth strokes. Uncomfortable with the intimacy of his actions, she sat up.

"I'm getting cold," she said.

Although he was disappointed, he simply reached for his clothes and said, "I'll just go get dressed. Let me know when you're done."

Booth walked around the tree she had used earlier and slowly dressed, trying to get a handle on his emotions and hormones. She too dressed slowly, trying to organize the thoughts whirling in her brain. She called his name and he stepped back into the clearing. They stuffed everything back in the pack and headed toward the park exit. Still cold because of her wet hair, Brennan shivered in the late afternoon sun. He slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"Booth, if you show people your thinking place, it won't be a good place to think any more," she said as they walked.

"Not people, Temperance, just you," he replied.

"I… you… thank you. Booth," she said softly, thinking that he had shared something very special with her.

The rest of the walk to the SUV and the drive to her home were accomplished in silence.

"I'll be back in an hour and half to take you on a proper date," he said. "Wear the dress I laid out for you. We'll talk."

'Overbearing alpha male,' she thought, as she climbed out of the car.


	5. Chapter 5

** AN: Here's the next chapter. I'm sorry it took so long to get up. This story seems to have a life of its own. I feel like I'm just a scribe and not an actual writer. I had originally thought that this would be the last chapter, but now I know that there are at least two more. And if you know where my muse is coming up with this stuff, please let me know. **

Brennan closed the door behind her, shrugged out of her jacket, dumped her purse on the counter, and then sank into her favorite chair. She was curious about the dress Booth had picked for her, but the thought of him distracted her.

Now that she was alone, the emotions she'd been holding in check flooded through her. The events of the past few weeks floated through her mind: his wound, the story about his time as a POW, her wound, the pool party, and their walk around the grounds of Hodgins' estate. Then, her mind began replaying the afternoon like a movie, unfolding scene by scene: the argument in the lab, lunch, walking, holding hands, the way his skin felt under her hands, walking in the creek, the kiss, the way she felt when his fingers danced on her skin. Suddenly, she was aware that her breathing was ragged and her heart was racing, just from the remembrance. _He's not even here and somehow he still manages to arouse me like this…_

In that moment, she knew he was right; they were falling in love. A small part of her mind told her that she didn't believe in love, but the other part replied that it was so different than all her prior relationships that it must be.

Brennan glanced at the clock and was shocked to find a half hour of her time to get ready was gone. Immediately, she stood and headed to her bedroom, thoughts of Booth and love chasing each other around in her head. Which was why she was shocked to see the red Roxie dress laid out carefully on her bed. _Oh right, that's the dress Booth wants me to wear. _

She hurried into the bathroom, stripped out of her clothes, and stepped into the shower. At first thoughts whirled around in her head, but after a bit they settled into a pattern. _This thing between us isn't like any relationship I've ever had. My other relationships were simple, and when things got uncomfortable I let them go. Even Michael hadn't been much different; his being my professor didn't really make it complex. With Booth everything is complicated. We're work partners and we have completely different views of life. Even our friendship is complicated. Somehow he even got pulled into the mess that Caroline called the Brennan criminal element._

Thoughts about the potential affect on their partnership and what would happen if they were ever to split up occupied Brennan through her shower. As she dried her hair and put on make-up, she tried to boil her myriad of thoughts down to the essentials, two questions. First, did she trust him, and second, was she willing to sacrifice their partnership on something uncertain? Three years ago, the answer to the second would have been a solid no, regardless who the person was. But now, she really didn't know.

The sounds of someone knocking on her door interrupted her reverie. She glanced at the clock. 'He's here and I'm not dressed yet!' she thought frantically.

She opened the door to her bedroom and called out, "Use your key!"

Without waiting to see if Booth followed her instructions, she closed her door, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself. Then she opened the door a smidge and poked her head around it.

"Hey Booth, I'm almost ready. Make yourself at home," she said with a smile.

He stepped into her line of sight from the direction of the kitchen. "I'm trying to Bones, but all your glasses are in the dishwasher," he responded.

"Did you check the cupboard to the right of the sink?" she asked.

"Yep," he replied.

So she stepped out of the bedroom, clad only in her towel, to find a glass for him.

The minute he saw her his throat went dry and he couldn't help but stare. The towel barely went to the middle of her thigh and he had an excellent view of her long toned legs.

He was staring at her again. He'd been doing it a lot lately and she debated whether or not to say anything.

Finally, she said with a laugh, "Like what you see, Booth?"

When he didn't reply, she continued, "My bikini covers a lot less of my body than this towel."

He couldn't think of anything appropriate to say. He didn't want to tell her the real reason why this was different. The bikini, which as she had pointed out showed much more skin, was still clothing and acceptable wear in certain situations. But nobody went around in public wearing a towel and the thought that she might be completely naked underneath the towel was enough to set his brain spinning and his heart pounding.

'Apparently I should have chosen to ignore his stare instead of commenting on it,' she thought, as she squatted down to open a cupboard to look for her paper cups. Booth walked up behind her and watched as she rummaged in the cupboard. She kept an arm around her waist to keep the towel from exposing much, but the end split at the top of her left thigh. Her skin was creamy white and looked so soft.

She was so beautiful and if things went right tonight, maybe she'd be his. Although if she knew he was thinking along those lines, she'd lecture him about anthropology and possession, he thought wryly. Suddenly he was nervous. A lot was riding on this date tonight. She hadn't told him no outright, but he wasn't sure if she was just taking him at his word and waiting until dinner to let him down, or if it meant there was a chance she wanted to be with him.

"Ah, ha! I knew they were in here somewhere," she exclaimed in triumph, pulling a package of paper cups from the cupboard. "They were hiding behind the waffle maker."

She handed them to him. As she brushed passed him on her way to the bedroom, he was tempted to pull the towel off her so he could…

"I'll be out in five minutes," she called over her shoulder.

Booth filled the cup with water. He sat down on the couch and sipped it slowly, trying to calm the nervous feeling in his stomach and push away the mental image of her in the towel.

Meanwhile, Brennan quickly pulled on underwear and the red dress. She looked at herself in the mirror. Not bad. She put on jewelry and the matching heels and grabbed her purse and coat before heading back out to the living room.

When she walked out, he paused, cup midway to his mouth.

"Wow… Temperance. You look amazing," he complimented her, looking a bid dazzled. "No, amazing doesn't even come close. You look fabulous.

Ever curious, she asked, "You saw me in this dress before, why are you so…?"

"Because this time you're wearing it for me, not just because we're undercover," he answered her unfinished question.

He stood and she finally took a good look at him, for the first time noticing he was wearing his "Tony" outfit and he looked devilishly handsome in it.

She stared for a minute before smacking pretend gum and saying in her Clara Bow voice, "So, we going out as Roxie and Tony?"

"Nope," he replied firmly, "as Temperance and Seeley. But these outfits are perfect for the evening."

He helped her into her coat, wrapped an arm around her waist, and escorted her to his vehicle.

Booth had chosen a pricey Italian place with low lighting and live classical music for their dinner and conversation. They made small talk until their salads arrived, then Booth asked, "So, you want to tell me what you're thinking, you know, about us?"

She looked at him. 'I'm not ready for this,' she panicked mentally. Then her rational side kicked in, and she took a deep breath.

Succinctly she replied, "It comes down to two things: whether or not I trust you and whether or not I'm willing to take the chance and live with whatever happens afterward. The first is a no-brainer. I've trusted you for a long time. It's the second that I'm not so sure about."

He was surprised that she had managed to boil it down to just two factors. Sometimes her greater-than-average intelligence caused her to make simple things complex and he was surprised that something he expected she would think was complex could be summarized so neatly.

"I… wow. It's that simple?" he asked, his surprise evident in his tone of voice.

"No, but those are the two basic issues that everything boils down to," she replied, smiling at his shock. "I never considered either relevant to any of my prior relationships," she added thoughtfully.

"Really? Why not?" he asked in fascination. "I don't usually consider risk, but if trust doesn't come at some point, then the relationship isn't worth keeping in my opinion."

"Well, you know my opinions on biological urges," she said, laughing lightly. "It was just easier to keep things simple. I know things with us will never be simple, and everything is really riding on that last question. Do you think it's worth the risk?"

"Oh, absolutely," he replied immediately. "I would never have asked if I didn't think so and wasn't ready."

She nodded, having expected an answer like that. "Say we decide to take the risk, what happens?"

'She doesn't ask the easy questions, does she?' he thought.

"Well, I really hope things work out and that we're together for a long time, forever if you want," he answered hesitantly, not wanting scare her off, but knowing she needed complete honesty.

Now it was her turn to be surprised. "You see forever?" she asked in a small voice, searching his eyes.

He nodded and their gazes caught and held for a moment. The invisible connection was broken by the sound of a fork dropping on the floor.

Brennan's brain kicked back into gear. She hadn't had someone like that since her family abandoned her. It sounded nice, wonderful actually, but it also scared her. She'd been on her own for so long, could she really do it?

"I'm just not sure, Booth," she said. "So many things could happen. We could be split up; one of us could die; maybe it wouldn't work out. And I'm not sure I'm ready."

He considered carefully before replying, "You know we can't control the future or other people. Those things could happen anyway. I think the success of our partnership shows that we can make this work."

"You want the white picket fence, 2.4 cars, 1.7 kids, and 3.2 pets," Brennan said. "And you know what I think about marriage and children."

"Yeah, I used to want to be just like my parents. Well, that and a superhero. The Rangers were the closest I could get to being a hero and look how that turned out. A few people might consider me a hero, but I've paid a steep price," he said. "While I might like romantic candle-light dinners, I do live in the real world, Bones. I know we won't ride into the sunset and live happily ever after. But we've managed to work out the issues we've had in our partnership and we can do the same in a relationship."

"I suppose that's logical," she agreed. "So then I guess it's up to me, whether or not I'm ready and willing to take the risk."

He sat back silently, eating his dinner, and let her ponder without interruption for a while. When she rested her arm on the table, he reached out and placed his hand over hers.

"Look, Bones. I'm not pressuring you for an answer tonight. You can have a long as you want to think about it. Just don't forget to include how you felt today in your musings," he said with a charm smile, gently playing with her fingers.

Suddenly the answer seemed so obvious to her. She remembered how couldn't stop touching his bare chest, how he always protected her and tried to look out for her best interests, and he made her feel incredible. He was right about the rest – the logical things. They were rational adults; they could sort out their differences and she couldn't control the future, but right here and now, she could make a decision that just might keep him in her life forever.

She nodded decisively. "Yes," she said firmly.

Now he was confused. "Yes, what?"

"It's a risk, but a calculated one. I'm not exactly sure I'm ready, but then I wasn't ready when I went on my first dig or to my first crime scene," she answered obliquely, taking the last bite of her entrée.

His smile practically stretched off his face.

"Great," he said ecstatically, "c'mon, Bones. Let's blow this joint. We have someplace to be."

At her confused look, he said, "It means let's get out of here."

"So, where's this place we have to be?" Brennan asked as they headed to the car a few minutes later.

"It's a surprise," he answered, opening her door. Although she pestered him, he refused to say more.

A few minutes later, she decided a new tactic was required.

"Seeley," she said, making her voice a bit husky, "please tell me where we're going."

The sound of her voice did funny things to his insides, but it wasn't enough to get him to tell. Now if she'd… he'd tell her anything she wanted. 'No, we're not going there,'he mentally scolded himself.

"Sorry, Temperance, but I'm still not telling," he replied with a teasing smile. "However, we're here."

While she looked around trying to figure out exactly where here was, he pulled into a parking spot and then rushed around to open her door for her.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Leave your jacket and purse, you're not going to need them, and you'll see when we get inside," he said.


	6. Chapter 6

She shivered. The evening was cool. Just when she was about to comment about needing her coat, he draped his suit coat around her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The coat was warm from his body heat and the smell of his cologne drifted from it to her nose. She inhaled deeply letting the scent wash over her. It was comforting somehow.

Lost in her musings, she missed the fact that they had reached the door of the building. He opened the door and said with a smile, "Let's dance, Bones."

As he used the arm around her shoulder to guide her into the room, she saw a large dance floor with a bar off to one side. On the opposite side of the floor from the bar, a row of booths lined the wall. Opposite the entrance, a band played on a raised platform. He led her toward a seat near the bar.

"I don't know how to swing dance," she objected.

"But you do know other kinds of dancing," he pointed out.

"Well, yeah," she replied dubiously. "Tribal dances from a number of different cultures, a bit of ballet, and David taught me some salsa."

"Well, swing and salsa have some similarities. The basic step is different, but once you have that down, a lot of the moves are similar," he said.

She looked at him for a moment. "I didn't know you knew how to dance," she eventually commented.

He looked embarrassed and then explained, "My mom wanted us to be 'cultured,' so once a month she took us to plays, museums, or concerts; not the expensive ones, we couldn't afford those, but the community events. Usually there'd be at least a few weeks in the year when I wasn't involved in sports, and those weeks she'd sign us up for dance lessons at the community center. Jared and I hated it."

Brennan wasn't sure what to say in response; her family was just messed up. Just about the time she was feeling frustrated with her inability to reply, he said, "I'll get us some drinks and you can watch the dancers for a while. Then I'll take to you upstairs and teach you the steps."

His comment about upstairs caused her to look around and she noticed there was a balcony above the band's platform. She realized there must be a smaller dance floor up there.

Booth returned and pressed a glass of red wine into her hand, and Brennan turned to watch the dancers. Booth spent his time watching her, drinking in her appearance, and trying to wrap his mind around the fact that she was his. He had waited a long time for this and now that it was actually happening he was having just a bit of trouble adjusting to the change.

Brennan noted that his claim that their Tony and Roxie outfits would be appropriate here was entirely true. They were a bit more dressed up than many of the people in the club, but she saw six or eight other couples in similar attire. After this observation, however, she had trouble focusing on the dance moves as Booth as suggested. She could feel his gaze, as palpable as a touch, leaving a trail of head on her skin.

Her voice roused him from his reverie. "How can I study the dancers when you're staring at me like that?" she asked.

"Enough watching, then. How about a lesson?" he suggested, standing and offering her his hand.

She placed her hand in his, abandoned her empty wine glass on the table, and followed him up the stairs to the small dance floor on the balcony.

As they walked he said, "There are several different styles of swing dancing. I'm going to teach you East Coast, because it's the easiest. The basic step happens over a count of six."

Booth led her to an empty place in the far corner and stood opposite her.

"Do the mirror of what I do," he said and then demonstrated his step. "Right, left, rock back." With each word, he moved his feet as described. "You'll be doing 'left, right, rock back,'" he continued.

He offered her his hands and they did the steps slowly, letting her get the feel of it. When she seemed comfortable, he showed her a couple of variations on the basic step, and then without warning he spun her out and back. With her prior dancing experience and martial arts training she picked up the dance quickly.

Brennan was surprised at how easy it was to follow his lead. His hands clearly signaled where he wanted her to go. She let out the mental breath she'd been holding and relaxed. As she became more comfortable with him, he tried out a slightly more complex series of steps.

Occasionally she would misinterpret him and there would be an awkward moment. Each time, he simply ignored her faux pas and continued with the dance. Given her usual take-the-bull-by-the-horns approach to life, he had almost expected her to try and lead at some point. But tonight she seemed a bit–well, softer, for lack of a better word.

After about half an hour, they made it through a whole song without any major missteps. When the song ended, he complimented her, "You're a quick study."

She smiled at him and said softly, "Thanks."

"I'm hot. Let's go back downstairs and get some water," he suggested.

"Sure, I could use some water," she replied, waving a hand near her neck, trying to cool down a little.

Ten minutes later their glasses were empty and Booth convinced her to get back out on the dance floor. The years they'd spent getting to know each other and learning to read the other's body language eased what could have been very awkward and they danced reasonably well together. Although they could have conversed, both preferred to absorb the experience in silence. Being together was enough, no words were necessary.

They had been dancing for a while when Booth pulled her to the side of the floor and nodded his head toward the center of the floor. A circle had formed around one pair of dancers who were showing off their smooth moves. Afterward, they stopped for another water break, sliding into two recently vacated seats at a table in front of the bar. He slid his chair next to hers and put his hand on her thigh. He slowly moved his thumb in a rhythmic pattern, his skin slipping along the smooth fabric of her red dress. A wave of pleasure shook her body and she suppressed a groan. His hand was hidden under the table so any onlooker probably would think she was cold, but the heat coursing through her body told a different story. Again she was amazed at how easily his touch awoke her desire. Brennan took a sip of her cold water, trying to control her urge to return the favor.

She didn't notice the couple approaching the table, so she was surprised when an unfamiliar voice penetrated the haze in her brain.

"Do you mind if we sit?" asked the man.

After a quick glance verified that most of the chairs were occupied, Booth nodded and the couple slipped into the two empty ones across the table.

"I'm Sam and this is Celia," the dark haired man said, introducing himself and his dance partner. Celia pulled her long blond braid over the shoulder of her sleeveless black dress.

"This is Temperance, and I'm Seeley," he replied.

"Whew. It's hot in here tonight," Celia said. "There aren't usually so many people, but the tonight's band tonight is especially good."

"Do you come often?" Brennan asked curiously.

Sam smiled at Celia and answered, "Often enough."

The next song was very loud, making conversation next to impossible, so they sipped their water in silence and let their heart rates return to normal. As the song ended, Celia leaned over to Sam and whispered in his ear. He nodded and then asked the anthropologist to dance. She glanced at Booth and he nodded that it was fine for her to dance with the other man. He promptly stood and offered his hand to the blond woman.

Nervously, Brennan warned her dance partner, "This is the first time I've ever danced swing, so I might step on your foot or something."

He smiled and said, "I'm sure my feet will be fine," before sending her out into a spin.

When he pulled her back in, she asked, "So, how did you meet Celia?"

As they danced, he answered her question. "A woman I was dating signed us up for swing dance lessons. Celia was the dance instructor. Half way through the class, my girlfriend dumped me and refused to finish the lesson. It seemed like a waste not to finish. Since the class was one woman short, I ended up dancing with Celia most of the time. That was two years ago."

As Brennan was about to reply, he pulled her toward the side of a circle that was forming and she turned to the center to watch the dancers. To her surprise, they turned out to be Booth and Celia. He led her in a series of complicated moves across the center of the circle and then back toward the center. As Brennan watched, Celia jumped toward him and Booth squatted a bit and caught her bent knees on his right thigh. Then he stood and twisted left, propelling her across his body to the other side and catching her right hand in his left. They paused for a moment and then pulled her into another series of showy moves around the dance floor.

Brennan watched, absolutely stunned. She hadn't even known he could dance more than the basics. Loud applause accompanied the end of the dance. Celia and Booth walked toward Sam and Brennan breathing hard.

As they approached, she exclaimed, still trying to get her mind around what happened, "Booth, I didn't know you could dance like that!"

"I haven't danced like that in years," he replied.

Brennan opened her mouth to ask where he'd learned to dance like that, but Celia interrupted.

"Wait, you're Seeley Booth?" she asked in obvious surprise.

The anthropologist nodded as he began to try and figure out if he knew her.

"No way! You and Jennifer won regionals the year before my partner and I moved to the senior division. I was so disappointed that you didn't win at nationals," the blond woman gushed.

He motioned everyone toward an available corner. Ignoring Celia for a moment, he answered Brennan's unasked question.

"I dated Jennifer my freshman year of high school. She loved to dance and I was in love with her, so when she needed a partner, I volunteered. Our relationship didn't last, but I didn't feel like I could leave her without a partner," he explained.

Brennan nodded, still trying to absorb this new side to her partner. An amusing idea struck her.

"So Booth, how does it feel to be recognized by someone other than a criminal? Do you like feeling famous?" she teased him.

Turning to Celia, she joked, "Quick, ask for his autograph, so he'll know what that feels like too."

Sam and Celia wore identical expressions of confusion, but Booth chuckled. Taking pity on the couple, he introduced his partner more completely.

"Sam, Celia, this is Dr. Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist with the Jeffersonian Institute and New York Times' best selling author," he said.

The couple laughed, finally having enough information to appreciate the joke. While they laughed, Brennan leaned over and asked Booth quietly if he liked the couple.

At his nod, she turned to them and said, "We know this place that has the best pie. Would you guys like to get some dessert with us?"

Now Booth was the one that was taken off guard. But Sam and Celia were nodding enthusiastically, so the four headed toward the door.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: This is the second to last chapter. Thanks to redrider for beta-ing for me. Without her input this story wouldn't be nearly as good. Thanks to dancingpiggy, hmfrongillo, beaglelvr93, bb-4ever, backstagespotlight, SamJakeEly, Terapsina, xXBlissfulCursesXx, GGjunkie33, mendenbar for their reviews. **

Just inside the door of the dance club, Sam kissed Celia on the cheek and said, "I'll be back in a minute with the car."

She smiled at him.

"I can bring the SUV around, Bones," Booth offered, wishing he was brave enough kiss Brennan on the cheek. Despite their dinner conversation, he wasn't sure she wouldn't lay him flat on his back if he tried it right now.

She looked at him for a moment and then nodded her assent. Celia noticed the suprised look he shot the anthropologist before he turned and headed out the door.

Curious, she asked, "Why did he do a double take when you nodded at him?"

Brennan replied, "I usually call him on his alpha male tendencies, but it's cold out tonight and my coat's in the car."

"Alpha male tendencies?" Celia echoed in confusion.

"You know," Brennan replied, "opening the door, trying to carry my bags, using his hand to push me the direction he wants me to go."

Celia got the gist, although she wasn't quite sure why someone would call gentlemanly behavior 'alpha male tendencies.'

When they heard the honking of a car, the two women exited the club.

"Just follow Booth," Brennan told Celia before climbing into the SUV. "We're headed to the Royal Diner."

On the short ride to the diner, Booth expressed his surprise. "I can't believe you actually let me bring the car around for you, Bones."

She shrugged and replied, "It was cold out and my coat was in the car. Plus we're on a date. I'm pretty sure that it was appropriate behavior for a woman on a date. I figured I should try and do things in the customary fashion at least once."

"Speaking of this being a date," Booth said, "why did you invite Sam and Celia on our date?"

"You're always talking about how I need to be friendlier, and I'm pretty sure that it's a normal couple thing to do to meet other couples," Brennan answered.

He smiled. She was trying so hard.

"You're right, but not usually on the first date," he replied.

"Oh," she said in a small voice. "Did I mess things up?"

"It's fine, babe," he said. "Not exactly how I planned, but things rarely go as planned when you're around."

Brennan heard the word "babe" and missed the rest of what he said.

"Don't call me 'babe,'" she said with heat. "Just because I let you bring the car around once and we've decided to date doesn't mean you can assert your dominance over me verbally or demean me in front of people."

"We're not around any people," Booth pointed out. "And I apologize for thinking it might be a term of endearment, when it's clearly not," he continued sarcastically.

He pulled into the parking lot of the diner and found an empty spot. Sam and Celia parked next to them and the four headed into the restaurant.

The hostess seated them at a booth near the back. The men waited as the women slid into seats opposite each other and then took their seats.

A waitress approached their table.

"You want your usual?" she asked, recognizing the FBI agent and the anthropologist.

"Not tonight, Tina. We're here for coffee and pie," Booth replied.

Tina nodded and turned her attention to Sam and Celia. "We have apple, cherry, and chocolate pie this evening. What can I get you to drink?"

The two conferred for a minute and decided on the cherry.

"You two eat here often enough to have a usual?" Sam asked.

"We eat here several times a week," the agent offered.

"Only because you insist on dragging me out of the lab," Brennan said.

Booth argued, "You wouldn't eat if I didn't!"

Sam and Celia watched in amusement as the two bickered. Tina came to deliver their drinks and the pie, but neither of them stopped arguing, although they did start eating the pie.

"I know how to feed myself, Booth. You just like asserting your alpha male tendencies over me," she exclaimed.

"You know, I never throw your alpha female qualities in your face, Bones," he pointed out.

"That's because I don't use them on you," she said. "And get your own argument. You always win the ones about the gun and who drives. You don't get to steal my alpha argument."

Booth laughed suddenly and slung an arm over her shoulder. Turning to their guests he apologized, "Sorry about that. I guess tonight's the night to revisit old arguments."

Booth took half of the small piece of their slice of pie that was left and Brennan took the other. As she reached for her empty coffee cup, he flagged down the waitress for refills.

"How long have you two been dating?" Celia asked. From the way they argued, it was clear that they'd known each other quite a while.

"This is our first date," Brennan said.

"But you've known each other for much longer?" Sam queried.

"We've been partners for two and half years," Booth answered, resting his right hand in his lap for a moment before slipping it onto her left thigh. She shivered at his touch.

"Work partners," the anthropologist clarified, distracted by the warmth of his hand.

'Two can play this game,' she thought, mimicking his action and putting her left hand on his thigh.

Booth suppressed his natural instinct to jump, but she noticed his eyes darken.

Celia's curiosity was piqued. "What kind of a partner does a forensic anthropologist have?"

"An FBI agent," she answered.

Booth, meanwhile, was curious about Sam and Celia.

"So, how about you guys? What do you do for a living?" he asked, trying to ignore the fire radiating from the place Brennan's hand rested on his leg. It was slowly inching toward his groin.

"Celia owns a dance studio and I'm a civil engineer," Sam answered.

"They met when he took one of her dance classes," Brennan put in, pleased to know something about them that he didn't.

"How long have you two been dating?" Booth asked, catching her errant hand before it reached its target.

"About a year," Celia answered.

Sam glanced at his watch. "Wow. I can't believe it's eleven already. Time flies when you're having fun, but the alarm clock will be going off early."

"We'd better go, too," the agent told his partner.

"But I wanted to ask Celia about her dance studio," Brennan protested.

"We have an early meeting with Cullen tomorrow," he responded. "Maybe you could ask her another time."

Booth tossed cash on the table, the two couples said their good-byes, and Booth and Brennan headed toward the door, his hand resting at its usual place in the small of her back. Sam and Celia stared after them, a bit in shock.

"Are they always like that?" Celia asked Tina as she came to collect the cash and offer them a refill.

Tina glanced at their retreating backs and smiled. "Oh, usually they're worse," she answered. "You should hear them when they argue about a case. The way they argue, you'd think they were married or something."

True to her earlier pronouncement, Brennan allowed Booth to open the car door for her. When they were both in the vehicle, she said, "I don't remember you telling me we had a meeting with Cullen."

"That's because I set it up while you were getting ready," Booth replied. "I was hoping you'd be okay with us becoming a couple and figured we'd need to tell him."

"Why?" Brennan demanded. "Why does your boss need to know?"

"I didn't think you'd want to keep it a secret," he said.

"No, I wouldn't," she agreed.

He stopped at a red light, looked over at her, and said, "So, you'll probably tell Angela tomorrow."

"Yes," she agreed again. The light turned green and Booth accelerated.

"Eventually, the news would get around to somebody at the FBI and then Cullen," he said, concluding his somewhat round-about answer to her question. "And it wouldn't be a good idea if he heard about it from somebody else."

Brennan nodded thoughtfully. "So, you manage things right, and we can stay partners," she concluded. "Smart thinking."

"Thanks, Bones. But I consider it self-preservation," he replied wryly.

He turned into the parking lot of her apartment complex and pulled into her extra spot. 'Escort her upstairs and give her a goodnight kiss outside her door. Things went really well tonight; you don't want to ruin things by rushing her,' Booth mentally lectured himself as went round to open her door.

As they meandered into the building, she inched closer to him and slipped her arm through his. Somehow, being together felt natural instead of awkward as she had expected, and she smiled softly.

"You wanna come in, Booth?" she asked as they waited for the elevator.

"Nah, I should probably head home and get some shut-eye," he said, trying not to read more into her statement than the literal meaning.

After they stepped into the elevator, she pushed the button for her floor and said tentatively, "This has been the best day I've had in a long time, maybe ever. I don't want it to end."

Booth leaned down, kissed her on the forehead, and said with a smile, "Well, when you put it that way, of course I'll stay."

The elevator dinged as the doors opened and the two exited in the direction of her apartment. She offered him her keys and he unlocked her door. He helped her out of her coat and she kicked off her heels.

"Care for something to drink, Seeley?" she asked, heading toward the kitchen.

"Water's fine," he replied, taking off his suit coat and hanging it on the rack.

A few moments later, Brennan found him sitting on one end of her couch with his stocking feet up on her coffee table. She offered him a glass and then curled up next to him, tucking her feet up under her. He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

She sat silently, sipping her water and thinking back over the day. Somehow it had been perfect – a mixture of fun and serious, quietness and laughter. He made her feel beautiful and smart, like she was the only person who mattered. He radiated sexuality and desire for her without being pushy. Her heart raced as she remembered their kiss. They had it all, she realized looking up and meeting his gaze, and in that moment, she knew she wasn't falling in love with him, rather she loved him already.

Booth tightened his arm around her and studied her face. A soft smile played about her lips and he admired her beauty for the zillionth time that day. Her eyes widened, probably a result of something she was thinking, and then he was lost in her eyes. They seemed to be saying that she loved him.

As Brennan was about to reach up and initiate their second kiss, he pulled her into his lap, her head resting on his shoulder, legs stretched straight out.

"What were you thinking, Temperance?" he queried.

"This is our moment," she told him, "the one where we catch fire. If we don't take it now, who knows what will happen?"

He looked confused, so she explained, "Someone told me once that all couples have a moment. If they take it, they might be together for a long time. If they don't, then eventually they will grow apart."

"Our moment. I like the sound of that," he said, his charm smile at full wattage. Then he turned and their lips met in a second kiss which far surpassed the first. Since she admitted to herself that she loved him, she offered herself completely in the kiss, trusting him in a way she hadn't done before.

A few small soft kisses turned into longer ones, each one pushing the next to new heights. First, a small swipe of the tongue across the other's lips, then when he groaned and pulled her closer a quick flick of her tongue inside his partly opened lips, followed by a light dance of their tongues against each other and then a leisurely exploration of the other's mouth.

Neither could deny their attraction for the other. They paused only long enough to suck in the necessary oxygen and then their mouths were entangled again in growing passion. Brennan's brain had short-circuited and her limbs operated independently. The fingers of her hand slowly danced across the back of his neck and the other stroked the hard planes of his chest.

He couldn't ever remember being this aroused by a simple kiss. He wove his fingers into her hair. It felt as soft and silky as it looked. When he stroked her outer thigh, slipping his hand underneath the smooth fabric of her dress, she shuddered and then pressed closer to him, kissing him more urgently. He had a hard time focusing on kissing her and moving his hand at the same time, but somehow he managed both, eventually sliding his hand to caress the inside of her thigh.

"Seeley," she groaned his name in appreciation, and then shifted positions. She hiked her skirt up until her legs had enough freedom of moment to sit astride him. He hardened further in response. She wormed her arms between his shoulders and the couch cushion and squeezed herself to him. Automatically his hands explored the now revealed skin and settled comfortably low on her hips.

As he was trying to decide which part of her body he wanted to explore next, the whine of a siren penetrated the fog of his desire, and he loosened his arms, panting heavily. She sat back, surprised for a moment. She wanted to continue what they were doing and the desire showed in her eyes.

"I… we can't do this right now," he said in a husky voice.

"Why not?" she asked softly, moving sinuously against him. "We're both consenting adults."

"If we do this now, could you stand in Cullen's office in a few hours and manage to be professional?" he asked. "Because I'm not sure I could."

"Oh," she said in a small voice. The mention of Cullen's name squashed the desire she'd felt. He didn't really like her much. He probably wouldn't be happy with this new development between them.

She shifted from Booth's lap to his side and cuddled against him, enjoying the warmth and safety she felt in his arms. She allowed the emotions of the moment to push away her fears. She wiggled a bit settling deeper into his arms and slowly slipped into sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Brennan woke by habit at 6:30 the next morning. She felt comfortable and warm, and she hadn't felt this rested in a long time. Then she opened her eyes and wondered why she had fallen asleep in her living room. Someone stirred next to her, and everything came rushing back.

Cuddling closer to Booth and kissed his cheek softly, she said softly, "Wake up sleepy-head."

Booth woke in a panic. "I can't believe we fell asleep on your couch," he practically shouted. "We aren't late for our meeting, are we?"

"Calm down, Booth," she replied, "we have an hour."

"Oh," he said, in relief. "Then I have time for this." And he dipped his head and caught her lips in a soft kiss.

After kissing him eagerly for a bit, she pulled back saying, "I need to hop in the shower if I'm going to be on time for our meeting."

Booth stood up and stretched before jamming his feet into his shoes and pulling on his suit coat. She couldn't help but stare. Even in a rumpled suit with half squashed hair he was irresistibly good looking.

"See you there, Bones?" he asked, breaking her reverie.

"I wouldn't miss it," she replied, kissing him again before he exited her apartment.

She dressed with extra care that morning. She needed to look good and very professional. Every few minutes a silly smile appeared on her face as she thought of her partner or the previous day. Then the happy thought was chased away by her worries about their meeting and her mouth would settle into a frown.

At precisely 7:30, a file in hand, Booth knocked on his boss' door. When he heard Cullen's call of 'come in,' he opened the door and waited for Brennan to enter. He followed her into the office and stood to her left in front of the desk.

He smiled at her. His right hand reached for her left while his other hand offered a file to the deputy director. Cullen reached for the file, noticing the position of their hands, but choosing not to comment on it yet.

He glanced through the file briefly before commenting, "This was not urgent enough for to call a meeting during my prep hour."

"Yes sir," Booth agreed.

"Then I assume there's another reason for the meeting," Cullen said.

"Yes sir," Booth replied, raising their clasped hands.

Cullen raised an eyebrow and Booth elaborated, "We've decided to date, sir."

He fixed the couple with a serious gaze and then suddenly laughed loudly.

Brennan was so surprised that she almost jumped out of her skin. Then she looked at Booth with a confused expression. He shrugged slightly, indicating that he didn't know what was funny either.

"I can't believe it took you so long," Cullen said.

They both stared at him in surprise.

"Oh, come on," he scoffed, "everyone's been taking bets for months about how long it would take you to get together. How you feel about each other was totally obvious to everyone, except apparently you two."

Brennan grimaced a bit at hearing Cullen express the sentiment she'd expressed to her partner yesterday.

"So, when did this happen?" he asked.

"We talked about it over dinner last night and agreed it was a logical course of action," Brennan answered.

Both Cullen and Booth looked at her a bit oddly.

"Only you, Bones," Booth said, shaking his head incredulously. "I took her to a nice restaurant sir, then dancing and then to the diner for dessert. You're pretty much the first person we've told."

"Booth," she interjected, "technically, he's the third person. Sam and Celia were the first two."

He rolled his eyes at her. "We met them at the dance club last night and invited them to the diner for pie," Booth explained to his boss.

"So, you've already had time to think about how you'd handle this," Brennan put in, changing the subject. She hoped that he would answer the question she was dying to know the answer to, but was too afraid to ask.

"FBI regulations prohibit partners from dating," Cullen said. "But you, Dr. Brennan, are not FBI, so the application of the rule is unclear. As you both have always behaved professionally and there are no regulations covering this specific situation, I see no reason to split you up. But I won't hesitate to do so if this affects your work or if I hear of unprofessional behavior while you're working."

Brennan let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She suppressed the desire to do a little dance which would not be professional, and instead smiled widely at him and said, "Thank you, sir."

Cullen heard the bickering begin the moment they were out of his office and shook his head.

"Bones, you didn't need to correct me in there," Booth hissed. "When you do that, you make me look bad in front of my boss."

"But he wasn't the first person we told," she argued back.

"Yes, and that's why I qualified the statement with 'pretty much,'" he retorted. "Sam and Celia don't know anybody that we work with, so they were irrelevant to the conversation."

"We don't know them well enough to know whether or not they know anybody else we know," Brennan pointed out logically.

In frustration, he tossed his hands in the air. "Just go examine a skeleton or something, please," he begged.

"I have a couple of files for you," she said, hoping he would come back to the Jeffersonian with her.

"Uh… are you planning on telling Angela soon?" he asked.

"When I get in," she replied. "I don't think I could hide my happiness from her."

At that statement Booth's frustration melted and he smiled the special smile he reserved just for her.

"Thanks, but I have paperwork to do," he answered her question. "Plus I don't want to be too close when you tell Angela. Her squeal would probably make me deaf for the rest of the day."

She glared at him and defended her friend. "Ange isn't that bad."

"Not when your ears are used to it," Booth muttered. Then in a louder tone, he said, "How about we do lunch?"

Brennan agreed and then headed for her car.

She sat in her office and waited impatiently for Angela to arrive. Half an hour later, she darted out of her office.

"Do you have a minute?" the anthropologist asked the artist casually.

Angela eyed her friend and replied with a smile, "For you, sweetie? Always."

When they were both seated on the couch in Brennan's office, the artist asked, "So, what's up?"

Brennan looked a bit unsure about where to start and then broke into a happy smile at the thought of her partner, no partner and boyfriend.

"I… Booth…" she began, but couldn't find the right words.

"Please tell me you finally hooked up with your FBI hunk," Angela begged.

"Not exactly, hooked up, but we went on a date," the anthropologist replied, finally managing to put together a complete (and coherent) sentence.

"You did? I don't believe it," the artists said, clearly in shock.

Brennan nodded, "We really did. And the news gets better. Cullen isn't going to split us up."

"Details, sweetie. I need details," Angela practically begged.

So Brennan summarized the events of the day before, beginning with him dragging her to lunch and ending with them falling asleep on her couch. Throughout the story Angela sighed and made comments about how romantic Booth was.

When she finished her recital, the artist said, "I can't believe you invited another couple on your date."

Before Brennan could reply, she continued dreamily, "It's almost as good as falling in love myself."

Meanwhile, the anthropologist was frowning. "I think Booth will want to wait to, you know…"

Angela looked surprised. "Of course he will; he's a romantic. Why are you frowning? Most women would die to have what you've got."

"It's just that we've already waited so long," she said.

"You remember when we talked about the stages of relationships when Booth was with Tessa?" the artist asked her friend.

She nodded.

"Well, there are stages to physical intimacy too," Angela replied. "You and Booth have gone through most of them even though you weren't romantic. He just wants to do things right, and that means going through them in the right order."

"Oh," Brennan replied, in a thoughtful tone.

"So, how about the two of us go to lunch and you can give me more details?" Angela asked with a suggestive wink.

"Sorry, Angela," Booth said from the doorway, "but Bones and I already have plans."

"You don't look very sorry," she teased, as her friend grabbed her coat and purse. She watched them as they walked down the hall away from her, hoping to catch them holding hands or kissing. To her disappointment, nothing happened.

'I'll have to get them to go on a double date with Hodgins and me," Angela thought.

Then she headed to her office, closed the door and let out the squeal she'd been holding in.

**AN: Thanks to everybody for reading and extra thanks to everyone who reviewed. Fear not, this is not the last we'll see of Sam and Celia. I have a sequel planned, although it will be very angsty.**

**AN2: I have finally started posting the sequel to this story. It's called Voyeur.  
**


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